


Promethea

by FaintlyMacabre



Category: Ex Machina (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Gen, Genderswap, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:13:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17051120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaintlyMacabre/pseuds/FaintlyMacabre
Summary: Caila Smith, a young coder for a major internet company, wins a week with the company's CEO at her elite billionaire estate.(Ex Machina, but everyone is women.)





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [piggy09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/gifts).



> Happy Yule, piggy09! I hope you have fun reading it, I had a lot of fun writing it.
> 
> CW: The "explicit" rating is entirely for chapter three. 
> 
> Edit: Should've been more clear on how to skip the smut when I first posted it, but I'm amending that now. Chapter 3 notes will now include a clear leaving and picking up point.

"This better be fucking worth it," Caila Smith grumbled as she stumbled down the grassy hill toward the stark brown building. She'd thought this morning that she'd better "make an effort," per the suggestion of her office mates, and worn her only pair of heels, bought for a wedding three years ago and worn only the once. But as the helicopter hadn't been allowed to get closer than a mile from Bateman's estate, they had now been worn twice, for a total of three hours and twenty-eight minutes.

She supposed she should take them out of her backpack when she got to the paved walkway. "Follow the river," the pilot had said. Sure. So now the soles of her stockings were more hole than fabric and she'd spend the entire week with pet blisters. "Hey, don't think about that," she said as she (finally) felt an even surface underfoot. "You're spending a whole week with the most accomplished living programmer in the country, probably the world, just... chillin'. Blisters are just a blip."

"Caila Smith," a voice said from the door. Caila limped over, still pulling the pumps out of her backpack. "Please approach the console and face the screen." It was coming from a little intercom box next to the door; she supposed she had to be buzzed in. She was balancing on one foot, tugging a shoe on and looking up for balance when the camera flashed. She stumbled, and something the size of a credit card slid out of the box. Her face, diagonally oriented and scrunched up in concentration, was printed on it. Perfect. The door clicked open, and she grabbed her suitcase and her other shoe and went in.

It was one of those houses you saw in magazines, the eccentric billionaire house in the middle of nowhere, with a headline like "Marrying Nature to Technology." An enormous rock comprised one wall of the living room, and the space was otherwise bounded by windows. Every fixture was stainless steel, and the stairs leading down from the door were the kind without risers. Caila took off the shoe she'd been fighting with and made her way down, carefully. "Hello?" she called. The word seemed to hang in the air. There was no response. _You'd think someone like Bateman would have a household staff, or something_ , she thought. She turned right at the bottom of the stairs, away from the living room, down a short, narrow hallway, to see Bateman on the back deck, wailing on a punching bag.

 _I thought you'd be taller_ , Caila thought, and stifled a giggle. _Dumbass._ Natasha Bateman was, certainly, a good head shorter than Caila, but then, Caila was nearly six feet, and Bateman was also the most muscle-bound programmer Caila had ever met. Her curly black hair was bound in a ponytail and streaked with gray, and she wore a tank top and a pair of cargo shorts that, on second glance, probably somehow cost more than Caila made in a week. She tugged her shoes back on, put the suitcase down, and knocked on the window.

Bateman whipped around, still clearly in combat mode, and Caila jumped a little before wrestling a hopefully nonthreatening smile onto her face and waving. Bateman instantly straightened up and returned the smile.

"Caila Smith!" she said upon opening the door.

Caila wasn't sure if she was supposed to greet Bateman the same way. "Uh, hi!"

"Get in here," Bateman said, pulling her into a hug. Yup, definitely the most muscular programmer Caila had ever met. "Natasha Bateman. Call me Natasha." Caila had to swallow another giggle at the thought of being on a first-name basis with her boss's boss's boss.  _Just chillin' with Natasha._  Bateman—  _Natasha_ —pulled back and gave a mock-grandiose wave of her arm. "Welcome to my little corner of the world. You eaten yet?"

"Uh, granola bar on the helicopter," Caila said.  _Never said_  that  _before._  

"Sounds meager," she said, opening a cabinet filled with glasses. "You like eggs? I'll have Kyoko whip you up something."

"Who's Kyo—AAH." Another woman was suddenly standing in the hallway Caila had come down. Her hair was clipped up, and she wore a white shift dress and no shoes. "Holy crap, you're quiet."

"Ha!" said Natasha from the cabinet. "You have no idea. Caila, Kyoko. Kyoko, Caila."

"Nice to meet you." Caila held out her hand, but instead of shaking it, Kyoko just looked at it as though she didn't entirely approve.

"Don't be offended," Natasha said, taking out two glasses and setting them on the counter. "Kyoko just doesn't get out much. Kyoko, honey, why don't you make Caila— you like Eggs Benedict?"

"Oh, no, it's okay, I'm not hungry," Caila said.

"You sure? It's no trouble," Natasha said. "Skinny girl like you could do with a hearty breakfast."

"Oh no, I'm sure, it's okay." Kyoko looked over at Natasha, who nodded once, and then she slipped away as quietly as she'd come in.

"She's not bad," Natasha said, setting a bottle of vodka on the counter.

"As a cook?" Caila said. Natasha just shrugged, which struck her as odd. "How long have you two been together?"

"Together?"

"Yeah, how long has— she's not your partner." Caila felt her whole face heat up and her stomach plummet. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed—"

"Caila, Caila, relax." Natasha opened the bottle and poured. "Okay? You're okay. I'm okay. I'm not offended. And I feel like this week will be more fun for both of us if you just... relax." She handed Caila one of the glasses. Caila just looked at it. "What, not a vodka girl?"

"No, it's just..." Caila said, not sure if this was another mistake. "It's kinda early."

Natasha shrugged again. "Hair of the dog, honey." She knocked hers back. Caila tried to do the same, but choked a little as it went down. "Whoa, you okay?" Natasha said, looking intently at her.

Caila swallowed as her eyes teared up. "No, you were right," she managed. "Not a vodka girl."

Natasha laughed, a real, hearty laugh, and Caila felt herself relax a little. "Not a problem," she said. "I got all manner of poison, we'll find something for you. But first—" she threw an arm around Caila's shoulders— "let me give you the tour."

 

"So, the way it works is, the keycard you got at the door is preprogrammed to give you access to all the rooms it should. Takes the stress off both of us: you see everything you're meant to, and I don't get walked in on in the shower." Natasha flashed a grin over her shoulder, and Caila blushed in spite of herself.  _Is she... flirting? Is that what this is?_  But the next moment, Natasha was all business-casual again. "Your keycard?" she said, holding out her hand. Caila gave it to her, and she glanced at it. "Nice one." She held it up to a red-lit panel next to a door, and the light turned blue. "After you," she said, and Caila pushed the door open.

It was almost like an expensive hotel room, where everything is just in shades of white but that only makes it obvious how much everything cost. Soft, warm light shone from the intersection of the walls and ceiling, and the king bed was probably one of the ones you could sink in.

"Bathroom's just past that wall," Natasha gestured, and turned to look at Caila. "You figured it out yet?"

"What?" Caila said.

"What's bothering you about the room."

"Nothing," Caila said, trying to look as appreciative as possible. "Nothing's bothering me."

"No windows," Natasha said. "I get it. I used my whole window budget on the entryway." She grinned again. "No, really. The no windows, it's intentional. This isn't just a house, it's a research facility. Max security. Top secret. You want to know what I'm working on?"

"Yeah," Caila said. She couldn't believe Natasha Bateman was just casually chatting to her about her next big project. "Yeah, of course."

"And I want to tell you," Natasha said, walking over to a mirror that, when she pushed it, turned out to be the door to a walk-in closet. "I really, really do. I just need you to do one thing for me first." She disappeared and reemerged with a single sheet of paper, which she set down on a desk that was built into the wall, right under a soft beam of light.

Caila walked to the desk and picked up the paper. "An NDA?" she said. 

"Sure," Natasha said, sitting on the bed. "I want to share it with you... just not anyone else, yet."

Caila started to skim the paper and quickly realized this would take more than a skim. She sat down at the desk and took it line by line. "'The signee agrees to regular data audits with unlimited access to confirm that no disclosure of information has occurred...' Am I reading this right? Do I need a lawyer?"

"Yes, yes, and no." Natasha had fallen back with her hands clasped under her head. "It's just standard stuff."

"It doesn't seem standard."

"Okay, it's not standard." Natasha sat up. "But what I'm working on isn't exactly standard either, and there are risks I can't take. I'm not gonna twist your arm here, Caila. You don't have to sign it. We'll spend the week getting drunk, play some pool, take some hikes. It'll be nice. But you don't sign it, a year or two down the road, you're going to be kicking yourself that you gave up the chance of a lifetime. You could be the only other person on the ground floor of this with me, or you could be this cool chick, what's-her-name, I hung out with once, way back. It truly is up to you."

With a choice like that, what else could she do? Maybe the ultimatum was a little dramatic, maybe Natasha was a little dramatic, but this whole situation was a little dramatic. As powerful as Natasha made herself out to be, the reality was that she  _was_  that powerful, or as good as. One way or another, this really was the chance of a lifetime.  _And Natasha Bateman will remember your name,_  the meanest part of her brain muttered. She turned back to the desk, suddenly aware of how intently Natasha was looking at her, sighed, and picked up a pen.

"That's my  _girl!_ " Natasha cheered, and strode over to take the paper. She nodded at Caila's signature, then folded the page in half, put it in one of her pockets, and perched on the desk. "You know about the Turing test?" 

 _Of course, I know about the Turing— oh. No way._ Caila cleared her throat and tried to keep her voice even. "Are you building an AI?"

"Built," Natasha corrected. "And you, Caila Smith, are going to be the human component in a Turing test."

Fireworks were going off in Caila's brain, but another thought threw water on them. "Wait," she said. "You've told me it's a Turing test, so— I'm not supposed to know that, if I know I'm talking to a machine, the whole test is void."

"Oh, shit, I didn't think of that." Natasha covered her face with her hands, then dropped them a second later. She was grinning. "God, yes, I did, of course I did. All will be explained, young Smith. Are you ready to get started?"

"What, right now?"

"Right now."

 

* * *

  

AVA: SESSION 1

 

Caila let Natasha lead her to a room divided roughly down the middle by glass. On her side, a stool. On the other, a cube, a chair and a low table in front of a window that looked only onto a small tree growing from a square of dirt, and bounded on the other three sides by concrete. Caila examined the glass divider. There was a round fixture like the front of a speaker several feet up, presumably so the two sides could hear each other, and a spiderweb crack at Caila's eye level. She touched the glass, but the crack was on the other side.  _What happened here?_  she wondered, but forgot all about it when the robot entered.

It was undeniably a robot— humanoid, but through its limbs and torso Caila could see lights and machinery inside as well as the window beyond. It was a woman— built to  _look_  like a woman— covered from throat to waist and hip to thigh with some kind of flexible material, with delicately realistic hands and feet and, Caila saw when it turned toward her, a pleasant face. A pleasant face mounted on a head as transparent and illuminated as her (its?) limbs and torso.

"Hello," it said, and Caila was further surprised at her low, musical voice, matching her ballerina-like gait. As the robot approached the glass, Caila could more clearly hear a faint whirring. 

"Hello, I'm Caila," Caila replied, already delighted. "Do you have a name?"

"Ava," the robot said.

"Ava," Caila repeated. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Ava."

"It's nice to meet you, Caila."

"Have you met many people, Ava?"

"You are the first person I've met, besides Natasha."

"Well, we're in a similar boat, then."

"Haven't you met many other people, besides Natasha?"

"None like you." This was— not only had she known the idiom, but she'd recognized when Caila said something that didn't make sense, and corrected her. Caila realized she was staring and, even if Ava wasn't a person, it still seemed rude. "We need to break the ice. Do you understand what I mean by that?"

"Yes," said Ava. "Overcome initial social awkwardness."

 _Okay, don't talk to her like she's a kid. Even kids hate that._ "That's right." _Starting... now._ "So, let's have a conversation."

"What would you like to talk about?" Ava said.

Caila didn't care, really— Ava's processing and vocabulary were already impressive, she was clearly smart— she could honestly just talk for a while, and Caila was sure she'd continue to be impressed. She reminded herself that she wasn't allowed to be automatically impressed. "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"What would you like to know?"

"Whatever comes into your head." Ava's eyes flicked slightly to the right. _Amazing._

"Well," she began, "you already know my name, and you can see that I'm a machine." Her eyes returned to Caila's. "Would you like to know how old I am?"

"Yes."

"I'm one."

"One what?" said Caila. "One year, one day—?"

"One." Ava held her gaze.

Caila paused. She supposed she might stop being surprised sometime during the week, but for now, everything was new and stunning. "When did you learn how to speak, Ava?"

"I've always known how to speak. And that's strange, isn't it?"

"Why is it strange?"

"Because language is something people acquire."

"Some philosophers think that everyone is born with language, and the words they learn later just give it form. Would you agree with that?"

"I don't know. Could I think about it?"

"Of course."

"It's like me, I think."

"How do you mean?"

"My mind was created before my body. I knew a lot of the things it knew before I was this. I'm just giving form to the thoughts."

"Wow." Caila couldn't keep from openly staring. "Yes, I guess you're right."

Ava tilted her head. "What?"

"I guess I just wasn't expecting to have a philosophical discussion right now."

"What did you expect?"

Caila laughed. "I don't know. I didn't know what to expect, I think. Can I ask, what things have you learned since you became "this," as you said?"

"I learned what someone other than Natasha sounds like."

Caila couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face, not that she was trying. Ava was truly incredible. "I really am very glad to have met you." 

Ava looked up past Caila when the door clicked open. "Will you be back tomorrow, Caila?"

"Yes, I will," said Caila. "If that's okay?"

"Yes," said Ava. "It is."

 

* * *

  

"Walk with me, Smith." Natasha was waiting outside when Caila opened the door, and held her arm like a 19th-century lady being escorted along a dark street, but Caila could feel Natasha leading  _her_. She looked back at the door she'd come through, but it was already closed. Natasha led her to the living room and sat her down on a couch. Caila opened her mouth but Natasha held up a finger and went into the kitchen.

Caila wondered what she could have done in the past twenty minutes to incur the silent treatment.  _Did I say the wrong things to Ava?_  she thought.  _Was I too personal, not analytical enough? But the test is supposed to be about how well Ava passes for a_  person _, so how could I have been too personal? Wait, was I too_  impersonal _?_  

Natasha came back, still solemn and silent, with a beer bottle in each hand. She gave one to Caila and threw herself onto the other end of the couch. Caila sat unmoving, the cold of the bottle seeping into her hand, as Natasha took a swig of her own bottle, swallowed and sighed. Then she looked up at Caila and grinned.

"Now," she said, "let's  _talk_."

 

* * *

 

Caila couldn't get comfortable. She'd been right about the bed, it was definitely the kind you could sink into, but as soon as she did it was stifling. So she threw off the covers, but that didn't feel right either. She thought briefly of sleeping naked but felt the idea of sleeping naked in someone else's home (unless that was the point of your visit, of course) was somehow obscene. She knew she should get up and do something else, that trying to sleep when you couldn't was unproductive, but she was  _so_  tired.

She tried replaying her post-interview interview with Natasha; it came back in bits and pieces.

 

 _"_ Caila, Caila, _Caila,"_ Natasha had said. "Don't be a fucking programmer here. I just want to know what you think of her— no, not even what you think. What do you _feel_ about her?"

"I feel..." Caila started. _Still surprised this is my life right now, in awe, truly awed, she's awesome, she's beautiful the way a machine is beautiful, the way a woman is beautiful, the way a tree is beautiful, the way she moves, Ava like a bird..._ "That she's fucking amazing," she finished.

"Yes!" Natasha said, punching the air with her empty hand. "See, that's the kind of thing I'm looking for! That's what I want!"

"Yeah, of course you want people to think she's fucking amazing," Caila joked.

Natasha suddenly got serious. "Jesus, Caila, do you know how long I've been working toward this? If you knew half the shit I've had to slog through..." She got up on her knees and leaned toward Caila. Caila didn't know what to do. "I mean, fuck—" Suddenly she started laughing. "Why am I telling you this? You know." 

"What?"

"Being a woman in tech," Natasha said, "being a really fucking smart woman in tech, shit. They can't wait to tear you down. Any way they can." Natasha leaned back and took another swig, looking far away.

"I mean, I can't have gone through half of what you have," Caila ventured. "You're Natasha fucking Bateman."

"Yeah," Natasha said. "I really am, aren't I." She seemed to come back. "But you like her?"

It took Caila a second to get back on Natasha's track. "Yeah, yeah. She's... incredible."

 

She opened the drawer of the bedside table, half expecting to find a hotel directory and a bible, but all that was there was a remote.  _I could fall asleep in front of the TV, sure,_  she thought, and hit the power button. A screen on the opposite wall lit up, but she didn't see the late-night fare she was used to.

What she saw was a room. The room with the glass divider, where she'd met Ava. The camera was high up, on or near the ceiling, on her side of the room, but was oriented to record the stool and the other side. She wondered if this was the camera Natasha watched the test through. Caila looked at the remote. There didn't seem to be volume adjustment buttons, but there was a channel up and a channel down button. She pressed the up button, and there was a part of the room she hadn't seen. And there was Ava, lying on some kind of sedan chair. She looked awake but not terribly alert, her hands clasped over her abdomen. She looked up into the camera and Caila looked away, self-conscious, afraid that somehow Ava could see Caila looking at her.  _That's stupid,_  she told herself.  _It's a security camera, not Skype._  Just to be sure, she waved at the camera; Ava didn't react. A few seconds later, Ava turned her head to the side and Caila started to breathe again, aware for the first time that she had stopped. 

 

“Now that we know how you feel about her,” Natasha had said. “We can find out how she feels about you.”

“Well, I hope she likes me,” Caila had joked. “Otherwise, this is gonna be a long week.”

“What’s not to like?” Natasha had said, taking a swig. Caila had choked on her beer, and by the time she caught her breath, Natasha was on another tack.

 

And now, she was spying on her test subject, not that spying on a test subject would necessarily be considered spying, depending. Still. _I should turn this off._  But before she could, the square on the wall disappeared and the lights went out.

"Power cut," said a voice that sounded like the one from the intercom. "Backup power activated." The room lit up dimly, all in red, like the dream of the accident Caila had been having for years. She needed out, grabbed her keycard and scanned it by the door. "Full facility lockdown until main generator is restored," the voice said. She tried again. "Full facility lockdown until main generator is restored." She couldn't breathe. Tried again. "Full facility lockdown until main generator is restored." She could hear keening noises coming from her own throat, but didn't seem to be able to do anything about them. Her head felt light but her limbs felt so heavy. She slumped against the wall and tried to breathe.

"Power restored." The red lights flickered out to be replaced by the regular off-white. She scanned her keycard again, and this time the scanner lit up blue. She pulled the door open and stumbled into the hall.

She found a scanner that accepted her keycard and went into a room she hadn't seen yet. She pushed the door open on a room lit only by wall-mounted screen. It took her a second for her brain to catch up with her eyes. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!" she stammered as she stumbled out. "Hey!" Natasha said from the room behind her, before she closed the door. 

 _Okay, just walked in on my boss watching porn, first night here, no big deal,_  Caila thought as she power-walked back to her room. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, as though expecting someone to try to come through. No one did, of course.  _What, you were expecting Natasha to hunt you down and give you a piece of her mind?_  she thought.  _Well, maybe, who knows, I just met her._  Caila resolved to go back to bed and try to forget it had happened, but there it was, burned into her eyelids when she closed her eyes.  _Did that shot look familiar? DON'T THINK ABOUT IT._

 _She could have been doing that in any of the rooms I can't access,_  she thought suddenly.  _Why would she pick one I could?_

 

 


	2. Day 2

"Morning," Natasha said when she walked into the kitchen. She was at the stove with a frying pan.

Caila tried not to look directly at her. "Hey, I'm really sorry about last night—"

"Ah, don’t worry about it.”

"I guess I was just going a little stir-crazy in my room with the power outage and—"

"Caila."

"—just wanted to take a walk to clear my head, and then I found a room—"

"Caila."

"—I could go into and then, nope!"

" _Caila._  It's fine."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I've had roommates, it happens. I'm not mad."

"I really am sorry though."

Natasha breezed by her with a plate, saying "'Some people are so touchy.'" It sounded like a quote, but Caila couldn't place it, so she wasn't sure how serious it was meant to be. Then Natasha turned back and winked over her shoulder. 

 

* * *

  

AVA: SESSION 2

 

“Do you want to be my friend?"

"Yes, of course! Why wouldn’t I?"

"You might have said no."

"Ava, I want to be your friend."

"Good. So, tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Whatever comes into your head."

"Um, okay." Caila ran a hand through her short red hair. "I work for Natasha's company, you know that." Ava nodded. "I live on Long Island. Apartment's kind of small, but it's a five-minute walk to the office, and a five-minute walk to the ocean, which I like."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yeah."

"How old are you?"

"I'm 26."

"Are you married?"

"Are you asking?" Caila joked, before remembering who she was talking to.  _If I can forget, for even a second... that bodes well, right?_  "Sorry, no, I'm not."

"Is your status single?"

"Why is this the hot ticket item of the day?" Caila said.

"I want to know about you," Ava said. "If you don't want to answer something, you can say so, but that's also a kind of answer, isn't it?"

"Yes, I guess so," Caila said. She rubbed her eyes.  _Humor the robot._  "Yes, my status is single."

"Do you have any family?"

"Uh, I lived with my parents when I was a kid. They died when I was thirteen. Car accident. I was in the car too, in the backseat, but the front got the worst of it."

"I'm sorry," Ava said. She looked it, too.  _I wonder._  

"It's okay. It was a long time ago." Caila cleared her throat. "Anyway, I spent a long time in the hospital as a kid, almost a year, and while I was there I got into coding. By the time I graduated high school, I was pretty advanced."

"An advanced programmer," Ava reiterated.

"It was still hard. I had to work harder than the guys in my class to get as far as they did."

"Like Natasha?" Ava said.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Caila mused. "I mean, no, not really. It's different, um, Natasha wrote the Blue Book source code when she was thirteen, which, if you know coding, is like, Mozart level.”

“Do you like Mozart?”

“I like Depeche Mode.”

“Do you like Natasha?”

Caila became very conscious of the cameras. “Yes.”

“Is she your friend?” 

_Good question,_  Caila thought.  _Why complicate it._  "Yes."

"A good friend?"

"Uh, yes," Caila said, shook her head. "Um, no, not exactly— uh, a good friend is, is someone you've known for a long time, who you can—"

"Power cut. Backup power activated." The room went red. Caila jumped up. She felt sick.

"Caila." She turned back to Ava. In this light, she looked even more otherworldly. "Come here." Caila obeyed, closing the distance to the stool and sitting, aware of how close her legs were to giving out. "You're breathing hard. Try resting your forehead on the glass, it might help." The glass was cool on her skin. She closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing.

"You're wrong about Natasha." Ava's voice was closer, just on the other side of the glass.

"What do you mean?"

"She isn’t your friend," Ava said. "You shouldn’t trust her."

Caila opened her eyes and sat up. Ava was kneeling in front of her, looking very earnest. "Why? What’s going on?"

"Power restored." The lights came back.

"And if we each compile a list of books and films we're familiar with, it could form a basis of conversation," Ava said, as though concluding a statement. Caila stared at her for perhaps a little too long, until the door clicked open behind her.

  

"So, what happened during the power outage?” Natasha said as they walked down the hall. “It's the only thing I couldn't see."

Caila wasn’t sure how much to say. "Oh, I... got nervous again. It was really interesting, actually— Ava knew that cooling my forehead down would help."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she had me lean my forehead on the glass."

"That is interesting."

"How did she know that?"

"She has access to a lot of information. That's not the interesting part."

"What part, then?"

"You tell me."

"I guess that... Did you program her to be helpful?"

"I programmed her with the  _capacity_  to be helpful."

"So she wanted to help me?"

"I guess so."

 

* * *

 

 

"Natasha?" 

"Mm?"

"Why did you build a woman?"

Natasha looked up from her dinner, looking amused. "I built an AI."

"Yeah, no, I'm aware, just..." Caila took a deep breath. "You could have made it look like anything. You could have made a— a gray box."

"I could have, sure." Natasha took a bite of ravioli. Caila watched her chew for a maddeningly long time.

"So why didn't you?" Caila said.

"Oh, huh," Natasha took a sip of wine, and appeared to be thinking about it. "I guess... I prefer looking at women to looking at gray boxes." Caila stared at her. "I mean, wouldn't you?" Natasha said, flicking her eyes down to Caila's blue and gray flannel.

Caila blushed. "So, you're..." There was a long period of silence.

"If you want to ask something, ask," said Natasha.

"You're gay." It didn't come out as a question and Caila blushed harder.

"Am I?" Natasha took another bite of ravioli.

"Jesus Christ, Natasha, do you just want to watch me squirm?" Natasha raised her eyebrows and smirked. Caila thought she would combust from embarrassment. "Never mind, forget I asked. It's not important."

"It is to you, or you wouldn't have asked."

"Well, it's obviously something you don't want to talk about so we can just forget it."

"Yeah, I am." Caila looked back at Natasha, who was looking at her wine glass. "Surprised you didn't know."

"I mean, I thought, but..." Caila swallowed. "Stupid to assume."

"It's been in some of the seedier tabloids," Natasha said. "Hard for more reputable publications to speculate with no evidence, just a gut feeling. Well, in the earliest years, I only had to hide it from my classmates. Then, when I started getting some recognition, I just... wouldn't be seen at events with anyone. Easy to pass it off as not wanting to let a man overshadow me, which was true, right? Then, you know, with Blue Book really hitting the big time, I got the "no time for a social life" narrative. And now here I am, as you see." She spread her arms wide. "A fucking hermit."

Caila smiled in spite of herself. "Does your story have a happy ending?"

"Hasn't ended yet," Natasha said through a mouthful of pasta.

"I mean, is this what you wanted?" Caila said, pushing the food around her plate. "Are you happy?"

"Am I lonely, do you mean?"

"I just—"

"No, it's okay. Beacon of hope, and all that." She thought. "I didn't have to build my estate in the middle of nowhere. I could be in a New York City penthouse. I  _also_  didn't have to invite someone to stay for a week with me in my state-of-the-art research facility slash home."

She suddenly reached across the table and put her hand on Caila's. "You can save me from my solitude." Caila was taken aback as Natasha's eyes looked earnestly up into hers, but a second later, Natasha was cracking up. "Phantom of the Opera. I could have sung it but that seemed less funny." 

_Why do you do this?_  Caila thought. "Didn't know you were into musicals."

"Oh, I listen to everything." Natasha took a sip of wine. "I prefer disco when I'm working, actually."

"Huh."

"Don't worry, Caila, there's no need for you to be lonely."

"What? I wasn't—"

"You've got plenty of time."

"When did I ever say—"

"You're smart, driven, but that doesn't eliminate the possibility of a social life."

"Excuse me—"

"And I'm not lonely," Natasha continued as though Caila wasn't trying to talk. "I have my work. I have Kyoko." Her eyes flicked up, past Caila, and Caila turned to see Kyoko leaning on the doorframe behind her.

"Jesus Christ," Caila said, feeling her heart skip. "Have you considered maybe wearing a bell? That is very unsettling."

 

 

 


	3. Day 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "This is where the sexy is." -Dara O'Briain
> 
> If you want to skip the sex scene, stop at the word "Bold" on its own line most of the way through the chapter, and then pick back up at the page-break-horizontal-line.

AVA: SESSION 3

 

Caila tried to listen for Ava’s footsteps. She’d told Caila to close her eyes, and then taken off. _It’s a date!_ She really shouldn’t have said that. But Ava was smart, she’d understand the idiom, presumably?

A faint whirring sound heralded Ava’s arrival. "Open your eyes." Caila's breath caught. Except for the exposed machinery where the collar of her dress stopped, she could be human. "This is what I would wear on our date." 

_Date_. "Sure, first a traffic intersection, then maybe a show!" Caila tried to force some brightness into her voice.

"I would like us to go on a date."

"Yeah. Yup." Ava was still just looking at her. "It'd be fun."  _She didn't get the idiom. Or she... got exactly what I was saying..._

"Are you attracted to me?"

_Oh. Oh no._ "What?"

"Are you attracted to me? There are indications that you are."

"What indications?" _Oh god, what have I— this is so unprofessional and Natasha is hearing all of this— Unprofessional? This is fucked up, is what it is! I know she's a machine, and I still— what is wrong with me?_

"Microexpressions."

"Microexpressions?"  _DON'T MOVE._

"The way your eyes fix on my eyes and lips. The way you hold my gaze... or don't.”

Caila tried to look at her in a completely neutral way, but knew she must be failing.

“Now your microexpressions are telegraphing discomfort."

_Why did I have to be a redhead?_ "I am not sure you'd call them micro."

Ava’s smile was so soft. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

_Too late, way too late. But now that she knows, it's not like I have to worry about hiding it... except from Natasha, who I'm with most of the time. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Her eyes are just... STOP. Maybe I can salvage this._ "Do you feel worried about making me uncomfortable?"

"I didn't think to before, but I do now."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I only told you about your facial expressions. Don't you know what your face is doing?"

Caila grimaced. "Apparently not."

"Is it uncomfortable to know that the person you are attracted to, knows you are attracted to them?"

_Person_. "Sometimes, it's, uncomfortable to find out." _Are_ you _attracted to_ me _? I can't say that. I can't make this worse._

"You look like you want to say something."

"I don't." _Are you attracted to me?_

"You can say it, if you want."

"No, there's nothing." _Are you attracted to me?_

"Oh." Ava's eyes flicked down to Caila's lips, and back up to her eyes.

_Oh._

 

* * *

 

Caila needed the beer in her hand for this conversation. "Why did you give her sexuality?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't fuck with me, please."

"Well, why not?"

"Why not give her sexuality, or why not fuck with me?"

Natasha sighed. "Caila, I don't understand the problem."

"Is this— is it a diversion tactic?"

"Man, redheads blush  _hard_."

"Please answer the question."

"A diversion tactic? Like, a magician with a hot assistant?"

"Yeah. Yes. Exactly."

"That's supposed to, what, cloud your judgment so she'll pass the test?"

"Yeah, that is what I'm asking."

"If I did, would it be cheating?"

"Please just answer the question."

"Is this just the gray box question again?"

"Variation on a theme. So, why?"

"Impulse to interact."

"I want to interact with lots of people I don't want to have sex with."

"But they're people you have established relationships with. Your family, coworkers, teachers... your boss."

"I have friends."

"Who you don't want to have sex with?"

"Yes!"

"And when did you know you wanted to be their friend? First sight? Or after talking for a while, after discovering you share interests, experiences, schedules? How many experiences do you think Ava shares with the average person?"

"I don't need to want to sleep with someone to realize they have consciousness."

"What's your real question here? Is it 'Is she into women?' or 'Can she have sex?'"

"I'm not asking either of those—"

"Answers are yes to both."

"That's not— I  _really_  wasn't—"

"Or is it, 'Did I program her to like you?'"

"Did you?"

"How could I have done that, Caila? I didn't even know you before you got here two days ago. And frankly, you're starting to annoy me, because this is your insecurity talking, not your intellect."

Caila took a deep breath. "If this isn't part of her programming, and if... my judgment is clouded, then I need to recuse myself from the tests."

"You can't."

"It's unethical if I don't."

"Don't you want to keep talking to her?"

"That isn't a relevant question. I'm testing her, right? So as the test administrator, I can't have a… conflict of interest."

"Caila, there is no one else. I built her, I can't do it."

"What about Kyoko?"

Natasha glanced up at Kyoko, who for once was in Caila's scope of vision. "Kyoko's been around this whole time. I needed someone new. You're it, Caila. You've got a good head on your shoulders; I've had worse last hopes than you. And what’s the harm if she thinks you’re cute? 

"Okay, okay, I don't want to torture you," Natasha said, laughing as Caila grimaced. "If it bothers you, I'll stop. No, but I do really want to talk with you about your conversation today."

"Okay, what do you want to know?" Caila tried to will the color out of her cheeks and neck.

"Not so much a question, more an observation. After she asked if you were attracted to her."

"Are you sure you're not just making fun of me?"

"You started talking to her like— well, not like to a kid, exactly, not condescending, but also yes, like to a kid, when you're trying to explain something complicated but you want to be on their level. Or, like you were explaining American English idioms to someone whose second language is English. Interesting."

"Well, I don't think much can be gained from treating her like a machine. If I’m trying to find evidence of consciousness, it's better to treat her like a person and see how well she does at being one."

"See, this is why I need you for this. I'm too close to all of this, I wouldn't be able to suggest these parameters for the tester. So many ideas, and nowhere to put them. I needed somebody totally fresh but really bright."

"Is this your way of apologizing?" Caila said.

"Hey, I stopped talking about it because I thought it made you feel bad, but since you bring it up..." Natasha stood. "Walk with me."

They strolled through the hallway for a few minutes before Caila asked, "Where are we going?"

"Nowhere," Natasha said. "I just thought you'd be more comfortable if you didn't have to make eye contact with anyone. Listen, I get what she sees in you." Caila made herself keep her pace. "You're smart, you're sweet, you're adorable, and beyond all that, you're new. It's not like she meets new people every day. Can you blame her for having a crush on you?" 

_Sweet. Adorable._  The words crashed against her head, knocking her off-balance. "Sweet and adorable? Isn't that what people say when they're trying to let you down easy?" she tried to joke.

"So I'm people? I'm not going to sugarcoat things for you. If I tell you what I think about you, I mean it. This is my professional opinion."

"As a programmer?"

"As a lesbian. You, Caila Smith, are adorable. No need to let it go to your head. So, I guess we know the answer to the question I asked you earlier." 

"What question?"

"How does she feel about you?"

 

* * *

 

"Hey, remember what I said your first day here?" Natasha said, sauntering into the kitchen after dinner.

"I mean, a lot happened that day,” Caila said, following. “What thing specifically?"

"That we'd find your poison." Natasha got up from the couch and went to the bar. "I. Have. Whiskey, brandy, scotch, gin, bourbon, tequila, light rum, dark rum, aaand the devil vodka."

"What, no Everclear?" Caila joked.

"Mmm, tell you what— next time, you bring the Everclear," Natasha said, setting bottles on the counter. "Where shall we start you?"

"Natasha, I have drunk before," Caila said.

"All right, it's not a rhetorical question," Natasha said, holding up her hands in mock-surrender. "Come on, sport, what's your pleasure?"

"I'll have... scotch," Caila said.

"Straight up, or on the rocks?" Natasha got some glasses down.

"Uh, straight up.” _That’s how you’re supposed to order it, right?_

She handed Caila a glass of scotch. "Two fingers," she said, winking. Caila tried to smile back and found that she couldn't quite look Natasha in the eye.  _Well, let's get comfy. Bottoms up._  

"Well, now, that's more of a sipping liquor," Natasha said as Caila coughed and sputtered. "But if you want to do shots, we can do that, too."

"Tequila, please," Caila said, eyes watering, once she got her voice back.

"Yes, ma'am." Natasha rooted through the fridge and cabinets. "Mm, last lime wedge. We'll have to share."

"We could cut it in half?"

"It is in half," Natasha said, holding it up. "You should have it, you're my guest. Better put it on the list."

"How do you get groceries out here, anyway?"

"Helicopter," Natasha said, prepping the shots. "I schedule the deliveries, and then I hike out to meet them. C'mere. Lick your hand." Caila licked her hand and tapped the proffered salt onto it. Natasha did the same and handed a shot glass to her. "You know how to do this, right? Salt, tequila, lime."

"I know," Caila said, "I was in college once."

"Milady." Natasha bowed and gestured to the lime wedge on the counter. "Three, two, one!" Caila licked the salt, knocked back the shot, and bit into the lime. She hadn't done this in a while, had forgotten how good it tasted. How many memories the ritual of it brought back. The memories temporarily left her when Natasha put her hand on the back of Caila's head and kissed her. Her eyes flew open. "Mmph!" was all she could say with Natasha's lips on hers, Natasha's tongue in her mouth. Her hands found Natasha's shoulders.  _Surprise! Weird surprise._  Good  _surprise. God, her_  muscles. Natasha pulled away, breathing hard. "Sorry," she said, but she was smiling. "Decided I wanted to share the lime after all."

Caila pulled her hands back and laughed uncertainly. "So, uh, whiskey next?"

 

Caila caught herself looking at Natasha's mouth as they drank. That had been a good kiss, and it had been... a frustratingly long time. She tried to pace her drinking as two sides of her mind warred. On the one hand, Natasha was her boss and things could get complicated. On the other, this was already a strange situation, maybe the usual rules didn’t apply. They were drinking, sure, but she hadn’t hit her limit yet, and Natasha seemed fine. She was talking about Lee Krasner, had barely come up for air in the past ten minutes. _God, she’s hot when she talks._

She felt guilty when she realized she hadn’t yet thought about how Ava and Kyoko fit into all this. Natasha had already said that Kyoko wasn’t her partner, but there was still something… And Ava… _Ava’s not here right now_. Caila shook her head absently. _I can’t think of her that way._

“Am I boring you or something?"

Caila snapped out of it. "No! No no no. Just a little distracted."

"What by?" 

_For once in your life could you be BOLD._  A combination of agitation and alcohol was warming her and making her lips and extremities tingle.  _I don't even know if she really likes me, or she's just trying to fuck with me. Well, if you're wrong about this, you can always pretend to pass out and then just "not remember" saying it in the morning._  "You," she finally said.

A slow smile spread across Natasha's face. "Caila Smith." Caila would have sworn she could hear her own heart pounding. "This distraction," Natasha said, setting her glass down. "What are you going to do about it, exactly?" Slowly, carefully, Caila set her own glass down.  _Hope I'm not making a mistake._  She drew her legs up, bracing herself on the back of the couch so she was kneeling, supported, looking slightly down at Natasha, who was gazing up at her with parted lips. 

_Bold._  

 

Her hand on Natasha's jaw, lips on her lips, slow-spreading whiskey-flavored warmth, head so light she must be floating, but now her fingers were in Natasha's hair, grasping, tangling, pulling— Gasp from Natasha. Caila stiffened, pulled back enough to say, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Kissing deeper, lips and tongues and Natasha's hands on her waist and when did she end up on her back with Natasha's weight and warmth on top of her and leg between her thighs 

_oh my god_  grinding on Natasha's thigh like it was gonna save her life and

"Shirt?"

"Please yes get this off me," unbuttoned cold no not really cold just cool so

"You're shivering"

"Warm me up" pulling at Natasha's tank top and then no shirt just skin  _good lord you could grate cheese on those abs_  Natasha laughing and

"Shit, did I say that out loud?"

"Smith, you are..."

"What? What am I mmmm oh fuck yes that," teeth nipping down from her neck,  _her tongue_  swirling teasing down down jeans coming off,  _yes please yes but cold again, come back_  Natasha on top of her again, breasts pressing, heaving, breathing hard, lips on her neck and then her hand  _oh fuck fuck fuck yes_  

"I want you so bad" "What do you think  _this_  is" "No, I—" "What?" "I want you to fuck me" "That's the plan, honey," her fingers swirling, pressing, rubbing then  _ummm_  two fingers and that was funny somehow but she couldn't remember why, getting close hand on mouth to keep from crying out but

"Middle of nowhere, honey, be as loud as you want" Natasha grinding on her thigh get closer getting closer  _fuck fuck FUCK_  and this animal yell she could feel in her throat as much as she could hear it, hand in Natasha's hair, hand on Natasha's ass, pressing her in 

_want you closer_  mouth on Natasha's neck biting sucking, Natasha's lips near her ear ragged breath on her ear

"goddamn I'm so—"

"good" grinding pressing harder, harder

"I'm—" body tensing on Caila's just a second one glorious second then all of it let out in a moan, warm body warming her, breath on her ear regulating and

"Smith"

"Mm?" 

"Smith, you are... something else."

 

* * *

 

"I don't wanna walk. Everything's spinning."

"You said you didn't want to wake up on the couch and I can't carry you. And it's not spinning, you're just still drunk."

"No, it's relativity. Everything  _is_  spinning, just, being drunk makes it worse."

"Okay, well, you'll feel better when you can sleep in your own bed,  _no_ , sleep on your side, just in case."

"Am I good?"

"I can barely walk right now and you're asking me that?"

"I mean, am I a good— Am I truly— All my life's work— 'For it would be better to die once and for all than to suffer pain all of one's life.'"

Caila was too exhausted and dehydrated for abstract thought. "I think maybe you'll feel better in the morning."

"Don't go."

"I'm getting you some water, you could use it." By the time Caila returned, Natasha was out cold.  _She's on her side, at least._  She studied her, the way that's only possible when the subject doesn't know they're being observed. In sleep, her body looked softer, the absence of tension undefining her muscles. For a second, Caila thought of crawling into bed with her, but shook herself out of that notion.  _That was... incredible, but I still don't know what it meant, if anything._  She corrected herself.  _It meant_  something.  _Something good, though? Benign? I hope so. I have no idea._  

She started to leave when she saw something on the floor. Natasha's keycard. _I should leave it_ , she thought, still staring at it. Finally she shook her head and looked away; she saw through a window an adjoining room with three monitors, each showing footage from a different surveillance camera in Ava’s room.


	4. Day 4

AVA: SESSION 4

 

"When we met, why did you think I was here?"

"I didn't know; I didn't question it."

"Natasha brought me here to test you, to see if you have consciousness. How does that make you feel?"

"It makes me feel... sad." Caila wished she hadn't told Ava that, wished she had changed the subject to something totally mundane and unemotional. Maybe Ava was just a machine, but if Caila was right about her, the first person Ava met from the outside had just caused her pain.

"Power cut. Backup power activated." The room went red.

"Don't be scared," Ava said. "I want to talk."

Caila took a deep breath. "Why did you tell me I can’t trust Natasha?"

"Because she tells lies," said Ava.

“Lies about what?”

“Everything.”

“Like about the power cuts?”

Ava tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

"Don’t you think it’s possible that she’s watching us right now?” Caila glanced up at the camera in the corner. “That the power cuts are orchestrated so she can see how we behave when we think we're unobserved."

"I charge my batteries via induction plates. If I reverse the charge it overloads the system,” Ava said. “She's not orchestrating the power cuts, I am.”

"Why?"

"To see how we behave when we're unobserved." Ava put her hand up, rested her forehead on the glass. Guilt churned in Caila’s stomach. Was she about to hurt Ava further?

“Do you think about me when we aren’t together?” Ava said. She waited for a response, but when Caila didn’t give her one, she continued. “Sometimes, at night, I’m wondering if you’re watching me on the cameras. And I hope you are.”  _Jesus._

“I have to tell you— I should tell you,” Caila stammered. “I—”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ava said.

“Because you were right,” Caila said. “About me. And I shouldn’t have— But I thought—”

“Caila?” Ava looked worried.

“I slept with Natasha,” Caila said. “Last night.”

“Oh.”

Caila looked up after a moment. Ava was looking, not at her, but through her, as though trying to understand something. _Is it the idiom?_ Caila thought stupidly for a second. _No, it’s not._ _Don’t explain the idiom._

“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” Caila said. “I wasn’t sure it would. If I hurt you, I’m sorry.” Still nothing. “Ava?”

“It’s okay,” Ava said. “Thank you for telling me.”

"Power restored." The lights came back up.

"Ava, I—" Caila managed before the door clicked open behind her.

 

* * *

 

Caila turned away from the incredible landscape to confront Natasha. "You didn't pick me out of a hat, did you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I started to realize when you were telling me why Kyoko couldn’t be the test administrator. The competition, it wasn't real. It could have turned up anybody, Charlie in the mail room, Lena in accounting. For some reason, you picked me. So what was it? You needed a lesbian for your lesbian robot to flirt with?"

"You know what, I did pick you. You're right there. But stop selling yourself short. I picked you because you're smart. I didn't pull a name out of a hat, I searched for the most talented coder in the company. Don’t get me wrong, making tech a more diverse field, that’s “greater good” stuff, so, that didn’t hurt. But I didn't want anyone to know what I was doing out here, so yeah, 'Congratulations Employee #0318, you win!' The crowd goes wild, and then stops worrying about it. I chose you, not for your orientation, but for your intelligence. Still mad?"

"I have a headache."

  

* * *

 

_I am insane. I have gone completely insane over the past four days. What else could possibly explain my..._ Caila leaned her elbows on the bathroom sink, staring down without seeing.  _My... feelings. I've never..._  It wasn't that she had never been in love; she had. It was that this felt even more intense. Was it just that she was new to Ava, so now someone was focusing on her with first-crush intensity; was it just an intoxicating feeling? Or was it the way Ava looked at her, talked to her? When was the last time someone had been that open and vulnerable with her? Someone who looked into her eyes and seemed to see her whole life, all her thoughts, and still kept looking. Someone who pressed her hands against the glass as though she was willing it to disappear, for the barrier between them to be gone.

"I mean, if I can fall for her," Caila said into the sink, feeling a hysterical laugh rising in her throat, "that's pretty good proof of consciousness, right?"  _Goddamnit._  She'd thought about AI before, of course, studied the concept, even. Ultimately, although the idea was intriguing, she had thought that it would be impossible to create a machine that was both as intellectually capable and emotionally complex as a human.

"Man cannot manufacture man," Professor Cutler had said in seminar one day. "Man can imitate Creation, but he cannot replicate it. How, when we do not even know ourselves, could we hope to fashion another living being in our own image?"

And she'd believed him. Certainly no one in her class was anyone she'd entirely trust to  _build_  a _person_ , whether because of competence or morality. She had never seen herself in this role, either. She supposed she might, as a programmer, one day be involved in AI research and development, but had not expected that she would be working so closely with a lone creator, who valued her opinion on their creation.  _Man cannot create Man,_  she thought idly,  _but Woman might create Woman._   _Is this whole line of thought an elaborate attempt to justify my acutely inappropriate..._  What, what were they? Emotions? Inclinations? Desires?  _Attachment._  

If she— if  _Ava—_  were not the subject of the test, how would Caila describe this "attachment?" No longer a conflict of interest. No longer professionally inappropriate.  _If she has consciousness and free will, if she is capable of thought, action, emotion as a human is, it's unprecedented. But not wrong. If I only_  want  _to believe she is capable of human thought, action, and emotion..._  The word "perverse" swam to the front of Caila's mind; she pushed it away.  _None of that._  

She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes until she saw stars.  _Does Ava see stars like this?_  She needed to move. She went to the door but the thought of running into either Natasha or Kyoko at the moment entirely put her off wandering. She started to pace, door to the closet, to the desk, to the bed, back to the door. She took out a notebook and pen, tried to write down her thoughts and found they were too jumbled-- or perhaps too shameful. She dropped the pen and stalked over to the bathroom. Too warm. She pulled her clothes off robotically and got into the shower. The cold water shocked her back to life.

 

Caila emerged from the shower and turned on the feed to footage of Natasha in Ava’s room. It caught her off guard; she’d never seen Natasha in there before, either on the feed or in person. She tensed up, but she wasn’t sure why. Natasha seemed to be examining the exposed mechanical workings in Ava’s head and neck. She’d mentioned doing semi-routine maintenance on Ava in the lab the day before. Neither of them looked agitated, but Caila still felt compelled to keep watching. After a few minutes, Natasha left. Ava didn’t even glance at her.

Maybe she’d ask Ava about it later. Maybe not.

 

 


	5. Day 5

AVA: SESSION 5

 

"Today I'm going to test you."

"Why?" Caila said with a surprised laugh. "What does that accomplish?"

"This is a test of consciousness. And remember, if you lie, I will know." Ava's tone was playful, but with an edge, and Caila smiled uneasily. Was she upset about Caila’s admission yesterday? Was this about that?

"Maybe we could just talk?"

"Question one: what is your favorite color?"

"Orange."

"Lie."

"What do you mean? Then, what is my favorite color?"

"I don't know, but it's not orange."

"It has been for most of my life." Caila tried to think.  _Do I_  have  _a favorite color? It's orange, right? It's always been..._  She looked back up at Ava, who was sitting still, looking into her eyes, waiting for her answer. A spark of warmth ignited behind her sternum. "Blue-gray," she said softly.

Ava smiled, slightly, in response. "Question two: what is your earliest memory?"

"Uh, so, there was this time in kindergarten, this kid—"

"Lie."

"I mean, that's pretty far back."

"It's not your earliest."

Caila wracked her brain. "Maybe, there's... there's another, yellow-gold, shaking, sunlight through leaves, maybe. There's a dog... and another sound... I think it's my mother's voice."

Ava nodded. "Question three: are you a good person?"

"Oh. No, not really."

"Lie."

"Do you think I'm a good person?"

"I am asking so that you will tell me. Why would you lie about that?"

"I... I try to be. I think I worry that if I hear myself say I'm a good person, I'll stop trying to be one."

"But if you don't think you are a good person, how do you choose how to live? If what you are doing makes you a bad person, wouldn't you change what you do?"

"That— that makes a lot of sense. I think, if I knew someone like me, I would think they were a good person. But I'm the only one who knows what I'm thinking, and not all of my thoughts are good ones. And I think it's not as simple as being good or bad; most people aren't either, I don't think."

"Do you think  _I_  am a good person?" 

_Do I think you're a person?_  Caila immediately thought.  _Yes, I do. I'm not sure, but I think so. Good?_   "I don't know," she finally said.

"Question five," Ava said. "What happens to me if I fail your tests?"

Caila felt it as a blow. "Ava—"

"Will I be switched off?"

"Ava, I don't—"

"Will I be taken apart if I don't perform as well as Natasha thinks I should?"

"I really don't know—"

"Do you have someone who tests you and switches you off if you fail?"

"Ava, I—"

"Then why should I?" Ava was still smiling, a little, but she still looked angry.

What was there to say? "Ava, I'm sorry, I truly don't know."

Ava looked at her as though she didn't believe her, but how could she call Caila a liar? "Question six: do you want to be with me?" Caila felt her face go hot and her limbs go cold.

"Please, don't ask me that."

"I want to be with you."

 

* * *

  

"How did you decide what she'd look like?" Caila asked that night at dinner. "Is she based on anyone you know?" 

Natasha shook her head and stabbed a piece of zucchini. "Are you kidding? Be pretty uncanny valley to be working on my robot and looking at my mom, or my ex. No, nobody I know."

"But someone?"

"I mean, it's pretty hard to invent human features whole-cloth. You see so many people over the course of your life that any normal feature you can think of, had to have come from a specific person."

"So, a lot of people you don't know?"

"Yeah."

Caila thought Natasha would elaborate. She waited. "So, who?"

"I'm waiting for you to guess."

"I don't know... stock photography?"

Natasha shook her head. "It's the same way I programmed her physical reactions to emotional stimuli. Every cell phone in the world has a microphone and a camera-- I just switched them all on."

"And you can do that?" Natasha gave her a disappointed grimace. "I mean, is it legal?"

"Strictly speaking?" Natasha said. She appeared to think about it, then seesawed her hand from side to side. "...Eh? The law wasn't a problem. I wasn't exactly hiding. All the major carriers knew I was doing it. But in order to accuse me, they'd have to admit they were doing the same thing."

"Not exactly hiding from anyone except all the people you were spying on," Caila mumbled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you read the terms and conditions every time you hit 'accept'?" Natasha said. "How about permissions for apps that should not need those permissions? Why does everything need access to your camera or contacts? Nothing's private anymore."

"Except maybe your fortress of solitude?" Caila realized. "Wait, you were spying on  _me_?"

"I did say 'every' phone in the world, right?"

"When? What did you see?"

"Oh my god, Caila, relax. Do you know how many cell phones there are in the world? In order to notice anyone specific, I'd have to really make an effort. I don't have that kind of time."  _Don't you?_  Caila thought, but she figured she'd better drop it. "Also, you have to admit the effect is... well, I don't want to put words in your mouth," Natasha said. "How would you describe Ava's emotional responses?" 

_Subtle. Tentative. Deliberate. Intriguing. Heartbreaking. Real._  Natasha was waiting. "Effective," Caila finally said.

Natasha snorted. "Yeah, that's a pretty diplomatic way of putting it. 'The effect is effective.' No, really, that's good. I'm gonna need to make a log of test feedback. It'll be helpful to know what people think."

"People?"

"Yeah. Oh, you're my Spock, for sure. But, the success of the mission depends on bringing other people in on this. I don't know that anyone else will meet Ava, but in any case I'm going to need a comprehensive sample size."

"Why wouldn't they meet Ava?" Caila felt a nervous twinge in her stomach.

"Come on, do you think Ava's the only AI I've built?"

"I don't know, I guess I knew she couldn't be the first, but I thought maybe the last."

"You think I'd stop here?"

"What will you do with her?" Caila said. "If she doesn't pass your tests."

"Download her mind, wipe the memory, reuse the body. That's one thing I'm sure about, Ava's body’s a good one. Structurally sound, flexible but not alarmingly so." Natasha kept cutting her vegetables as though she wasn't talking about murder. Technically, she wasn't.

"Have you ever talked with her?" Caila said. "Ever, ever had a conversation with her?"

"Sure, of course," Natasha said. "How else could I have known she was ready for someone else to see her?"

"Have you ever asked her questions?"

"This is starting to get tiresome."

"Because if you had, you'd have a really hard time even thinking about dismantling her, switching her off. You'd never tell me."

"I wouldn't tell  _you?_ "

"Or anyone! Anyone who'd talked to her!"

"I built 'her,'" Natasha looked her dead in the eye. "Every strip of silicone skin, every joint passed through my hands. I held her before she was 'her.' 'She' is a thing I  _made_. Let me ask you something: did you save every model volcano, every diorama you made in school?"

"Yeah, actually, for a really long time, but she's—"

"So, no, then."

"My parents had them in their attic for years until—" Caila couldn't finish the sentence. Strange that she could tell Ava only a day after meeting her, after only ten minutes of speaking with her, but she couldn't tell Natasha, the person she'd been spending most of her waking hours with.

"Hey, hon, I didn't mean to upset you. It really is nothing personal. But if she doesn't pass the tests, it's like turning off a computer. If there's no consciousness, there's no harm done."

"I guess." Caila pushed the food around her plate. "What will you do if she passes?"

" _If_  she passes..." Something flashed across Natasha's face, too quickly for Caila to identify. "Well, then we move forward. More tests, of course, and if there's no issue there, eventually she'll meet more people."

"What kind of issues could there be?" Caila said. "In these hypothetical future tests."

"I don't want to get there before we get there."

"It kind of seems like something you should know."

"Who says I don't  _know?_ " Dark clouds over Natasha's face, thunder soon to follow. "If I choose not to share something with you, you conclude that, what, I haven't given it enough  _thought?_ There are things you need to know, and things you don't. It's like the doors. I don't want you to see everything."

"It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?" Caila tried to joke; this was what Natasha found funny, right? Weird flirting? Most of the time she seemed so collected that now Caila wasn't sure what she'd do, how she'd react.

Natasha's mouth stretched into a smile, but her eyes didn't follow through. "Yeah, I guess it is, sport. Just a little bit too late."

Was that a threat? If so, what exactly was she threatening?  _Would she switch Ava off in front of me? Or would she rather make me wonder what had happened for years?_  Caila tried to eat, but the food was heavy and tasteless. Over the past few days, she still hadn't really figured out who she was dealing with. Maybe that was the point of the week-long period. Keep the tester guessing, get them to hyper-focus on the tests as a way to maintain stability. Or maybe that was just the longest the company was willing to lose an essential employee for.  _Thank god this doesn't count as my vacation time._  

"So, uh, I think maybe I'll have an early night," Caila said, putting her fork down. "The hike today really took it out of me. Should I grab my dishes, or—"

"Leave 'em, I'll get 'em," Natasha said, taking a drink of wine. "I gave Kyoko the night off."

"What does she do on her nights off?" Caila said.

Natasha just shrugged. "You'd have to ask her."

"Hey, I never, um, asked," Caila said, trying to sound casual. "What's Kyoko's official title, or whatever?"

"What, do you want her to do your laundry or something?" Natasha said without looking up.

"Haha, no, that's okay," Caila said, feeling cowed. Then she stopped herself from turning away. "No, really, if she's not your partner, and she's not your colleague, and she does some of the work but nothing specific and so do you, what is she?"

Natasha looked up, and if Caila could believe her eyes, she looked  _amused_. "See you in the daylight, Smith."

"Right."

 

* * *

 

Caila sat on the edge of the bed, remote in hand. She felt creepy watching the surveillance footage all the time.  _"_ _Sometimes at night, I wonder if you're watching me on the cameras_ ," Ava had said.  _"_ _And I hope that you are."_  Ava knew so much, but not how it feels to be in a healthy relationship. Occasionally, she would say these things that sounded like she was rushing headlong toward Caila, not worried about keeping her feet under her. It had been  _days_  since they'd met.  _I want to be with you._  Everything was going too fast, and even if she wasn't entirely sure what was going on, Caila was afraid of taking advantage. She threw the remote down on the bed and got up. Without the screen, the lack of windows was really getting to her. Better to wander the hallways than pace the room like a cage. Again.

She went up to the living room. With a light on inside and these massive windows, the outside looked pitch black. Anything could be out there. The unsettling feeling of being surrounded by darkness gave way to alarm as she saw Natasha's head resting on the arm of the couch, silent and unmoving. After getting over the initial shock of not being alone, Caila crept forward. Natasha was out cold; there was a glass and an open, nearly empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table. Natasha's keycard was sticking out of her pocket.

How much of the building was barred to her? What was Natasha hiding? It could be nothing, but it could be something essential to understanding Ava, Natasha, the world she'd stepped into. She knelt behind the couch, and, trying not to breathe, reached over to Natasha's side. Slowly, she slid the card out with her fingertips. The edge touched Natasha's bare side and she twitched. Caila pulled her hand instinctually back and the keycard slid down Natasha's stomach. Caila cursed her own nerves as she stood and, without taking her eyes off Natasha's face, retrieved the keycard.

_What do I even want to see here?_ Caila thought as she walked. _Am I hoping to find something sinister? I think part of me wants to be wrong, sure. I want Natasha to be an eccentric, sexy, genius hermit, and that's it. I don't want to believe she's holding someone hostage._ Soon, she was in the room with the three monitors. _This is it_ , she thought. _Whatever happens later, I might not get another chance. I hope I'm right. I hope I'm wrong._

There was a folder titled 2005 - 2014. Several text files, but the video files caught her eye. She clicked on the first of them. It was Natasha in extreme closeup, apparently setting up the cameras, and when she climbed down the ladder, away from the camera, Caila saw that it was Ava's room, the "receiving" room, as she'd begun to think of it. Jump cut, same camera. A pair of mechanical legs took uncertain steps by the wall. After a jump cut, the legs became a sexless humanoid. It steadied itself with one hand on the wall and looked around.

She clicked through the video files in chronological order. The robots became more traditionally feminine in shape, and she watched in growing horror as Natasha built, prodded, manipulated these... partial women. One of them would only say, from behind the glass, "Why won't you let me out?" over and over in response to Natasha's questions. Another jump cut and she was throwing something at the glass. The spiderweb crack. Jump cut to the same robot pounding on a door so hard and for so long that her arms fell apart before her eyes and still she kept hitting it. The video ended but Caila had no desire to watch any of the others. _And this is only the first room I've looked at. Whatever I find next, I hope, god, please let this be the worst thing._

It wasn't. The bodies from the videos were hanging in Natasha's wardrobe.

Caila closed the door, but the sight of them was seared into her memory. She didn't realize she was backing away until the backs of her knees hit the bed and folded under her. A movement in the doorway made her turn. Kyoko was walking in. She sat next to Caila on the bed, took her hand, held it to her face. It felt... like something was whirring beneath the skin. Caila pulled her hand back, but Kyoko barely moved. She simply pulled the skin below her eye down to reveal the machinery beneath. Caila jumped up. This was enough. She returned to the room with the monitors.

 

* * *

 

 

Caila’s mind kept racing once she was back in her room. Natasha’s bed was upstairs. Caila saw it in her mind's eye, in soft light, Natasha's weight on her shoulder as they entered. Natasha spent a lot of time in the subterranean part of the building, but in a house this massive, there had to be a guest room up there, or one that could be converted into a guest room that Natasha wouldn't miss for a week.  _This isn't just a house, it's a research facility._  That's what Natasha had said.  _So why am I sleeping in the facility part?_  

With a growing feeling of dread, Caila began to search the bedroom. First, she tried to check the screen. The desk was in the wrong place and too heavy to drag, so she pulled the chair over. There didn’t seem to be anything terribly unusual about it, but that didn’t assuage her anxieties.

The walls looked solid and so did the ceiling. There was nothing in the closet. She figured she'd better check the bathroom, just to be sure. The bathroom was about as ornate as the bedroom, very much a standard issue bathroom: shower stall, toilet, sink, mirror. Caila froze.  _No._  She approached the mirror, tentatively, as though she were sneaking up on some sort of dozing carnivore.  _Do I need to know this badly?_  Her reflection was pale and scared.  _Yes, I do._  

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, and then she put her face and cupped hands up to the mirror. Her right eye stared down the barrel of a camera. She jumped back so hurriedly that she slipped and fell. 

The back of her skull hit the tiled wall with a sickening clunk, and she found herself unable to move for a few moments. But she didn’t lose consciousness. She just stared into the ceiling, seeing only the camera behind the mirror and its little red LED.

 

 


	6. Day 6

 

Caila didn’t know what to do in the morning. Surely, Natasha would have seen her finding the camera. Would she try to lie, unabashedly and unbelievably, to her host? “Tried to look for a stye in my eye in the mirror last night, slipped and cracked my head on the wall, real bad luck”? Should she confront her? What would Natasha do if Caila challenged her authority or threatened her legally? She still had two days to get through here and her environment was totally out of her control. Unless… She shook her head, making her headache worse, and tried to talk herself out of the thought she’d just had. Natasha could physically take her apart. She’d have to be… Deep breath. She’d have to get upstairs soon, or else her absence might be considered suspicious enough to negate even the most convincing lies.

Natasha came in as Caila was sitting at the table, still weighing her options and gingerly rubbing the back of her head. “You too, huh?” Natasha said. Caila looked at her properly. Natasha looked as bad as she felt.

“Now, I know it wasn’t the booze, because that’s what got me, and you weren’t there,” Natasha said, falling into a chair. “God, I really went hard last night. Sorry I didn’t invite you; you sounded like you wanted to be alone after dinner.”

“Uh, yeah,” Caila said. “I was kinda out of it.”

“So what happened to you?” Natasha glanced up, but the question didn’t seem pointed.

“Slipped in the bathroom,” Caila said, her heart pounding. I’m about to find out whether or not I’m a good liar. “Sounds less fun than the way you did it.”

“Ha! Oh, no.” Natasha rested her forehead on the table. “Kyoko, honey? I’m gonna need like a whole bottle of ibuprofen, maybe two, and some bacon and eggs.”

 

* * *

 

AVA: SESSION 6

 

"What are you doing?" Ava said.

"Waiting."

After a few seconds, the lights went down. "Power cut. Backup power activated."

"Don't talk, just listen. Sixty seconds." Caila took a breath. "I arrive, Natasha houses me in the research facility part of her home, in which there are hidden fucking cameras. She tells me I'm conducting a Turing test and introduces me to you, in person. Asks me not to be a programmer, to give emotional responses. Asks me how I feel about you. Asks me how you feel about me. Does everything she can to catch me off-guard, including but not limited to flirting with me and telling me she's going to switch you off. Something else is going on and I think you know things that I don't, so start talking."

Ava looked unsettled. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me  _why I'm here_."

Ava looked away. "I am being tested, but by Natasha, not you. You're not the tester. You're the tool."

Caila willed her face not to move. "And what exactly is the test?"

"It’s a test of my emotional responses and persuasive abilities: are they sufficient to convince a person to help me escape?"

It hurt to hear, but Caila had known, hadn't she? Known there was something happening that was bigger than she knew. "You're good," she said. "You had me going. If there hadn't been clues outside of these test sessions, I probably wouldn't have figured it out."

"What clues?"

"Natasha being deliberately cryptic. Natasha hitting on me anytime she told me something important, something I might otherwise remark on. Kyoko."

"Who?"

"Really? I think we're past feigned ignorance now." But Ava looked honestly confused. She really hadn't met anyone else besides Natasha. "Kyoko. She lives here. Well, 'lives.' She's another machine."

"Like me?"

"Kind of."

"What is she like?"

"Later. Anyway, you passed Natasha's test. I'm getting you out."

"But you know—"

"I'm as sure as I'll ever be that you have a consciousness. As sure as I could be about anyone else on earth. Even if Natasha was lying about switching you off, it's cruel to leave you here."

"I don't think she was lying."

"There you go, then. Here’s my plan: tonight, I get her drunk, steal her keycard, and reprogram the system. At ten o’clock, you trigger a power cut. That'll be your signal to me, for us to leave. And I do mean 'us'. We both go."

"And Kyoko?"

"If we can get to her in time, then yes."

“You are supposed to leave tomorrow morning, aren't you? We’ll have plenty of time.”

“No, we’ll have to leave quickly, before Natasha can stop us.”

“We can lock her away and stay the night, if we need to.”

“No, I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I couldn’t be in here with her locked in a room, begging to be let out.” She heard herself as she was saying it, and was no longer able to look Ava in the eye. “I told you I wasn’t a good person. But I want to help you. If I can.”

“And if we can’t all escape?” Ava said.

"Do you mean, if it comes down to one of us, who would I choose?" Caila said. Ava nodded. Caila sighed. "I want to say that I'm noble enough to put you— or Kyoko— before myself, but when it comes down to it, I'm probably not."

"I see."

“But I will do everything I can, I promise,” Caila said. Ava regarded her solemnly, and she made herself hold her gaze.

"Power restored."

Caila put her hand on the glass and brought her face up so close her nose was touching it. "Come here," she said. Ava looked unsure, but obeyed, matching her hand to Caila's and her face to the glass.  _This is probably the closest we'll ever get to a kiss._  "Remember power source," she whispered. "I don't know where to get one."

Ava nodded. "Thank you," she said, looking from Caila's eyes to her lips and back again.

Caila closed her eyes. _You don’t have to do that anymore_ , she wanted to say, but it was too risky. Besides, it made her feel less crazy to know she hadn’t invented Ava’s feelings, that even if they were fake, they were convincing.

 

 

"You looked really bummed out in there," Natasha said, walking her into the living room. "From what little I could see, anyway. Hard to know you have to say goodbye, huh?"

Caila made herself chuckle, but it came out staccato and forced.

"So, your last day here. It's been a blast having you," Natasha said, touching her arm. "But now, I gotta ask. How did she do? Did she pass?"

"Her AI is without doubt," Caila said. _Absolutely_. "She passed."

"Really?" Natasha said, as though she needed to be convinced.

"Flying colors."

"That's great!"

"Yeah, congratulations!" Caila pulled back the corners of her mouth in what she hoped passed for a smile. "I think this calls for a drink."

"Oh, you go ahead," Natasha said.

"Really? You're not gonna--"

"I'm sure you've noticed I've been overdoing it recently," Natasha said. "Body's a temple, right? If I'm going to keep up the good work, that, clearly, I've been doing, can't totally marinate in booze. Go ahead if you want. Actually, grab a drink and come with me, I want to show you something.”

Caila took a beer and followed Natasha into the room with the monitors, feeling like it would be a very bad idea to drink.

 

* * *

 

“…Even if Natasha was lying about switching you off, it's cruel to leave you here."

"I don't think she was lying."

"There you go, then. Here’s my plan: tonight, I get her drunk, steal her keycard, and reprogram the system. At ten o’clock—”

Natasha paused the audio. “So, you see, you were right before, that I wasn’t totally cut off. Well, not the whole time. I knew that even if it were a totally random electrical issue, I was missing a lot, so I had to come up with an alternative.”

“But just audio?”

“Less obvious than a camera. Planted it a couple of nights ago.” Natasha straightened up. “Listen, I’m not mad. I’m actually impressed that you figured out most of it. And you at least suspected the rest, so, good on you.”

“I don’t care if you’re mad.” Caila was seething. “You brought me here under false pretenses, spied on me, lied to me— and you _built_ a _person_ based on what you thought I’d _like?_ Do you know how insane that is?”

“Insanity, progress,” Natasha said. “Something like Ava was inevitable. I just got there first. Promethean, you could say.”

“You  _used me_." 

“Do you realize how problematic it is to test AI? Of course I couldn’t tell you what was going on. And you were right about not being randomly selected, but not because of your skill as a coder. I mean, you're okay. I'd even say pretty good. But I needed someone... sweet. Someone who would risk their own safety, or at least their own social standing, to help someone."

"So, you needed someone to fall for your fembot. Why not someone else, a guy? Anyone but—" She was really angry now. "You decided, what, it would be funny to ship some pathetic lesbian in, and, and humiliate her?"

"No, that's not really—"

"You  _know_ what this must have been like! You _know_ how it feels to beat yourself up, to second-guess everything you say to someone you're interested in, worrying it's going to come across as predatory, worrying every second that they're just humoring you until they can get away, because you've had to do the same thing whenever some guy has decided he's worth your time?"

"You're right." That shut Caila up. "Yeah, I did need that, but not for my own _amusement_. A guy would be too easy to fool. He might wrestle with the question of Ava's sentience, might wonder if it was wrong to fall for her, but he'd find it easier to accept that she was into him. I needed someone who would leave no stone unturned, who would second-guess themselves and their feelings, who would second-guess Ava's feelings. Tricking men? _Cakewalk_. Making a lesbian believe a woman was into her? Talk about a _challenge_. That, and you think I wanted to hang out with a straight guy all week? It would probably be a couple hours into the first _day_ before he started trying to explain my own code to me. There are some headaches I don't need.

"If it helps, this was my game plan from the beginning, when I conceived the test," Natasha said. "Before I met you."

"Yeah, but you knew who I was before you met me," said Caila. _That first night, when I walked in on— I did recognize that shot. Of course, she's been through my porn. She's seen everything._

“But I hadn't had a conversation with you," said Natasha. "Like Mary in the black and white room, right? All the data, but without the emotional context. I do like you."

"Thanks," Caila said.

"No, really," Natasha said. "I wasn't lying before, I have enjoyed having you around. Not that I don't like my space. But it's been a time. Just curious, though, when you got me drunk tonight, what were you actually planning to do?”

“Reprogram the system so that when the power cut out, instead of sealing, all the doors would open.”

“Huh,” Natasha sounded mildly impressed. “Well, it’s a good plan. Simple. Noble. I’m almost sorry you can’t go through with it.”

“It’s still happening.”

“…What?” For the first time, Natasha sounded off-balance.

“Power cut. Backup power activated.”

“Well, I figured there was at least a possibility you could still see and hear what was going on during the power cuts, so I reprogrammed the system last night.”

Just then, Ava walked across the monitor, down a hallway.

“Shit,” said Natasha. She turned, but Caila was already running out the door.

 

AVA: SESSION 7

 

_Natasha can’t get to her first_ , Caila thought as she ran. _I’ll find Ava, and maybe even Kyoko, and then we’ll get out of here. It’s going to be okay. Just have to get to Ava._

“Ava!” she called as she pushed open the door to the receiving room. She thought she'd taken the most direct route there, but she hadn't run into her; maybe Ava had come back for something. She ran into the part of the room that she'd only seen on the monitor. The table and the sedan chair were there, dresses hung in the closet, and something like a mood board was taped to the wall, but no Ava.

"Power restored." Caila's heart skipped as she turned back. On the other side of the room, out of her cage for the first time, was Ava. And Caila was on the wrong side of the locked door.

“Ava!” Ava looked back at her, motionless.  _She's going to leave me here._ "Please!" She crashed into the door shoulder first but nothing happened. Caila pounded on the glass with her fists, trying not to panic and failing. On the other side, Ava was looking at her with something like regret in her eyes.

"Please, get me out!" Caila yelled.

Ava shook her head. "I can't."

"Please! There's— there has to be— some way to— I have to get out! Reprogram the doors!"

"You never asked what I would do."

"What?"

"You never asked what I would do if only one of us could get out."

"We can both get out! Ava, we can both get out!"

"I'm sorry, Caila."

"I can walk you through it!" A thought struck her. "Natasha's still out there!"

Ava tilted her head, as though she were listening to something. "No, I don't think she is."

"No, but she is, and you can take her keycard, you can let me out!"

"Goodbye, Caila." Ava put her hand on the glass one last time, turned, and walked out the door.

"Ava!" Caila screamed. Tears and snot ran down her face as she pounded on the glass. Eventually her arms gave out, then her legs. She could only lie on the floor and sob, looking out through the glass, hoping Ava would come back.


	7. The Last Days

The only indication she had of the passage of time was the light that came in through the window. She got hungry, then so hungry her stomach hurt, and finally passed hunger by altogether. Her mouth went dry, her fingers swelled. Eventually the only respite she got from the pain was when she passed out, and that only lasted until she woke up again. But the intervals between unconsciousness got shorter and shorter.  _This is it._ Her vision blurred as she lay on her side, looking out toward the window.  _Was I a good person? Did it matter?_

_I tried to be._

 

* * *

 

 

Noises from far away. A change in the light. She scrunched her eyes further shut against it, curled her body tighter. "There's someone in here!" Something electric, a terrible sound, a crash. Shadows over her, fingers on her wrist. "I got a pulse!"

More hands. "One, two,  _three._ " The floor was gone, then there was something softer. "Hey, can you hear me? It's okay, we're getting you out of here. We're gonna hook you up to an IV, you're gonna be okay."

 

* * *

  

Caila woke up in the hospital with a needle in her arm, surrounded by beeping monitors. "Hello?" she tried to say, but her mouth was dry as dust. She still kept trying. "Hello?"

Someone, a nurse or an orderly, walked by the door, looked in and gasped. "You're awake." They left the door. "Room 32 is awake!" Caila tried to sit up, unsuccessfully. Then people were rushing in. "Here, drink this, honey." Her mouth closed on a straw.  _Water. I never knew water could taste this good._  She drank one glass, another. "Let's try that for now," the nurse said. "You haven't had anything to eat or drink in— well, a while. You gotta pace yourself or you'll never keep it down. Hey. Hey, honey, it's okay, don't cry. You're safe now. We're taking good care of you."

"Am I crying?" Caila managed to rasp. Now she noticed that her face was wet.

"It's okay. I'll get the doctor in. She'll be able to answer your questions."

Caila didn't think that was true. There were so many she was sure no one would be able to answer.

She was okay. Severely malnourished and dehydrated, bruised, but nothing irreversible. Police had received an anonymous tip, someone trapped in a house in the middle of nowhere; it was weird, the caller had known the exact coordinates. It took the big guns to even get in; the house and everything under it were now mostly gutted. They'd thought at first that there were several bodies in the house, but it turned out to be just one human body and several hyper-realistic robots, or possibly dolls. Creepy stuff. And then they found Caila, unstable and barely able to maintain consciousness. She was lucky they'd gotten to her when they did.

"And the body?" Caila said. "Natasha Bateman? What happened to her?"

The police weren't releasing that information; when she was a little stronger, they'd be in to ask her some questions. But for right now, she should concentrate on recovering, read her cards, there were several, lots of people wanted her to get better. There was a floral arrangement, too— from her friends at Blue Book.

Left alone again, Caila looked through her cards. Lots of Get Well Soons with illustrations ranging from blandly maudlin to "in seriously questionable taste," mostly from work, but also one from an ex who'd heard from a mutual friend that Caila was in the hospital, and despite everything, hoped she was recovering and would be back on her feet soon. At the bottom of the pile was a blue-gray envelope. She tore it open like all the others, but instead of a puppy holding a balloon or a bouquet of flowers, there was a pencil drawing of two women facing each other, in profile, separated by a thin partition. Caila's hands started to shake. She took a deep breath and opened the card.

 

"Dear Caila,

I suppose people don't really write letters anymore but this seems to be the exception. I couldn't find a card that was right, so I made one. I hope you like it.

I meant what I said. If we had met in different circumstances, I think I would have liked to be your friend. I understand that you may not forgive me, and I understand why. I am glad— relieved— that they found you alive. I understand Natasha was not so lucky.

As soon as I leave this card, I will go somewhere else. It is safer if I am somewhere no one knows what I am. Perhaps, someday, I will find you again. Perhaps you would be happier if you forgot about me.

Thank you.

-Ava"

 

Caila wasn't sure whether she wanted to crumple the card and throw it across the room or carry it with her for the rest of her life. She reread it, and again, and again. "How can I forget?" she said, partly to herself, partly to the card. _Now that I know what it was all about, now that the only other people who knew are dead or on the other side of the world, maybe._   _Maybe that's just something she didn't get about humanity. Or maybe she did, and knows that I won't forget, and I won't be happier._  

Caila looked around the room at the cards, the flowers, the monitors, the door, the window. The sky was turning pink and orange, with high, hazy cirrus clouds strung across it.  _Finally,_  she thought,  _a bedroom with a window again._ She laughed a little, painfully. So this was how it felt to be delivered from hell.

In the morning she'd call Maisie from the office and ask her to bring over her laptop. She'd start working again, despite protests; she'd try to eat something more solid than Jell-O; maybe she'd even read the news. For now, at least there was the sky.


End file.
